Korite = mange-ing

Today is the end of Ramadan and I don't really feel like moving much because I ate so much food. My family is Catholic so I was really shocked when they had me come downstairs for a traditional korite breakfast of millet and what they call milk. (It's actually something like powdered sugar and hot water but who really cares anyway) What seemed like just a few hours later I came down again for what seemed like a regular lunch. We had a new visitor who kept insisting that I believe in God which was really beginning to make me uncomfortable. I figure I'm not asking anyone not to believe in God so why can't they just not insist that I do? Then I was finally informed that he was my family's priest which I found mildly amusing. He's the first priest I ever told that I was atheist but I'm not ashamed of it; it's just what I believe. I wonder if my family is totally praying extra hard every night to forgive them for letting a sinning non-believer live in their house. I told them I'd go to mass, no problem and the first Sunday I was here I got all dressed for it and everything and no one even told me that it was already over. I figure maybe they're scared the church will go up in flames or something if I walk in with them. I can't blame them, they might be right.

Anyway, we ate our regular meal and the priest gave me lots of Senegalese beer (Catholics) and as usual once I had quit eating everyone insisted that I keep eating and I insisted that I could not do so. I don't know why they do this really. I am totally used to it now and just wait once I've put my spoon down to hear someone say it because it rarely ever fails. Today was not as always however because after I had stuffed myself full of couscous with sauce carrots and manioc and beef, they moved the dish and replaced it with an entirely different meal. Round 2. I knew they would never let me get away with not eating so I dug in. That was about 5 hours ago now and I can't think of food yet I know that I'll be returning soon to another meal; hopefully less filling. I suppose it's a good thing that I had just a salad last night and was actually feeling a little hungry for once. Salad is such an excitement here. It's so rare because most vegetables aren't safe. as some of our group discovered after a vegetarian dinner which had them all running to the bathroom for days. The only vegetables you can eat are apparently expensive so I cannot express my delight in getting handed a bowl of greens last night. It is my favorite food back home.
I'm really glad to be going back to class tomorrow; assuming that's what's going to happen. Senegal is such an example of disorganization. We had to wait until last night to know if we'd have class today. No one really seems able to explain why but it's something to do with seeing the moon and knowing if today was the holiday or not. And apparently about half the country got the moon all wrong in the beginning because everyone is still waiting on the president to announce if people have to work tomorrow or not. That's a pretty good example of everything here. It's no wonder the people are so patient and easygoing. They really have no choice.
I feel disgruntled that I hadn't begun keeping a travel blog sooner. I've spent most of my life being thoroughly against public journals. In keeping a journal since I was 12 I always thought it was the one thing I could have all to myself. Yet, in traveling it's a lot harder to write things with a pen and paper because it's so overwhelming you almost can't write fast enough by hand. Nothing I've ever said of any of my travels has ever done any of the experiences any justice. Not to be 15 or anything but I must admit that I still completely love John Mayer. I think he describes my feelings about traveling better than anything else I've heard in the song 3X5. http://www.lyricsfreak.com/j/john+mayer/3x5_20074304.html
Particularly striking to me are the lines:Maybe I will tell you all about it when imIn the mood to lose my way with words Today I finally overcameTryin to fit the world inside a picture frame
I actually had this exact experience when I was in Bacharach, Germany. I had travelled the seven hours by train all alone and the sights of this itty little German village in the Rhine Valley were amazing. It was so much different from Leipzig where I had been living. I climbed this mountain to a castle/hostel and kept snapping photos trying desperately to capture what I was seeing for all the people I wished could've been there with me. No matter how many I took I couldn't be satisfied. The scope of my camera just wasn't capable of really seeing what I was. Finally I decided, to hell with it! I'm here! I need to be seeing this myself.
The same thing happens everytime people ask me how my travels are. I have been so many places and seen so many things and there's so much to say and yet all I ever seem able to come up with is something totally lacking like "yeah, it's great!". So, I'm hoping this blog can be an attempt at saying better the things I haven't been saying now that I'm in like my 11th country or something like that.
Anyway, I have 15 more minutes to blow before I have to register for my classes and I'm currently sitting in the computer lab at my school all by myself and it's dark and today was long and I just want to go home really so I'm just going to keep on typing until 8 pm. This is my last week of classes and next week begins my internship. I had been under the impression that we all started working November 1 but according to Alex that's the holiday for the dead or something and no one works. Oh the ambiguity.
I know that I'm going to be working in a health clinic nearby and I keep wondering how on earth I wound up saying I wanted to do that. I must've had some mental lapse and forgotten who I was or something. I have a weak stomach and know absolutely zilch about medicine. Apparently Africa is the place to learn because they don't care if you know anything- if you're white they'll just throw you in and give you a few weeks to figure things out and then call you a doctor or something! Okay, so I'm exaggerating a little but I am really thrown off by the fact that I'm apparently going to be qualified to do something actually medical at some point during the next 8 weeks. Everytime I'm with Alex he tells me "tu aime les petits" (you love kids/little people) and now I'm so mad at myself for not saying that I wanted an internship working with kids! Why did someone else have to point this fact out to me?! Regardless, I'm excited for the experience despite how completely retarded I'm most likely going to feel there. They're I'm sure going to be throwing out medical terminology in Wolof and French that I wouldn't even understand in English.
Oh Wolof... that's a funny subject too. My Wolof class is just a bit ridiculous. I'm pretty certain based on my education of teaching languages that the curriculum at my language school hasn't changed one bit since about 1970. My teacher gets a kick out of my hysterical and uncontrollable laughter at some of the flashcards we use in class. As a result of this ridiculous curriculum we do over and over again countless dialogues. We spend soooo much time doing this. It works; we totally remember them. Everyone in our group walks around saying "Laayla, tubaab bi degg na wolof!" (My God, this white person speaks Wolof) But, try having a real conversation when all you know is a memorized dialogue. You're fine until someone changes it up on you a little and then all hell breaks loose and you look like a total moron. Oh well, everyone is amused regardless that you can even say two words in their language. Plus, they're just glad you're white and you're not French. Americans are such a commodity over here; I've never felt so special in all my life! Anyway, time to register and get home for some more mange-ing (eating, with a touch of English)